


Two Forks

by Noxbait



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brothers, Episode 11, Episode Tag, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Season/Series 15, The Gamblers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:20:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22543159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noxbait/pseuds/Noxbait
Summary: It wasn't the first time they'd ever shared a piece of pie.tag to Season 15, episode 11 "The Gamblers"
Comments: 6
Kudos: 50





	Two Forks

**Author's Note:**

> Good morning! :) Just a little tag to last week's episode.

* * *

* * *

Two forks.

Dean had asked for _two_ forks. This was what their life had become. Splitting a slice of pie because that was all they could afford.

Being broke sucked.

They had a lifetime of experience with being broke and it didn't get any easier even now that they were adults. It still sucked.

$4.60.

That's all they had left to their name. Not even a whole five dollars. It sucked and it was frustrating and embarrassing and actually kind of scary; especially with everything else they were currently up against. They hadn't been this short on finances in a long time.

Despite all that and despite the despair gripping him every minute of every day, Sam couldn't help but smile when the waitress brought the slice of pie and set it between them. Dean was still bitching and moaning about the state of the Impala and the fact he was going to have to change a tire; like they'd never had a flat tire before.

"What are you smiling about?" Dean growled at him.

"Two forks?" Sam nodded at the counter where the waitress had placed a fork in front of each of them.

Dean frowned, shaking his head as he grabbed his fork and said, "I'm not sharing a fork with you."

Sam laughed.

"What?"

"That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean?" Dean stared down at the actually rather generously sized slice of pie.

"You can have the pie, Dean. I'm fine. You don't have to share it."

"I'm not going to just sit here and eat a piece of pie that took the last of our money while you go without," he grumbled, then took a bite.

"I've never gone without," Sam said, more to himself than to his brother.

He'd certainly lacked things at times. They both had. But if Dean had been by his side, he'd never gone without something he'd needed. Food, clothes, shelter, basic necessities; Dean had always done his utmost to provide at least the bare minimum. And he'd always provided encouragement, love, and support. There had been rough periods, of course, but those were in the past. Time and maturity had provided perspective on a lot of things and Sam could look back and see more of the good than he could the bad.

He picked up the second fork, thinking about all the things they'd shared over the years.

They'd shared clothes, shared toothpaste (but never a toothbrush; at least not as far as he knew, and if he was wrong about that one, he didn't _want_ to know), shampoo (sometimes unwillingly), shared the car (also, sometimes unwillingly), and had shared the burden of the endless hunts. They'd shared laughter and tears and grief and hope. Shared bottles of whiskey and beer. Shared meals more times than he could count when they'd been so broke all they could afford had been one sandwich.

They had shared this entire - often miserable - life together.

Staring at the pie, he smiled again. It wasn't the first time they'd shared a piece of pie but it seemed even more meaningful right now, given the crapshow that was their life at the moment. $4.60, two cups of coffee and a slice of pie shared between them. If it was their last meal, it wasn't such a terrible one.

"Stop thinking and start eating," Dean said, tapping his fork against the plate. "Pie's good."

Sam took a bite and found that it really was good.

"On our way back, we'll stop and get a whole pie for the trip home."

"Yeah?" Sam tried not to sound as doubtful as he felt.

Dean nodded. He took a sip of coffee then said, "We'll hustle up some cash, hopefully get rid of this bad luck, and have some more pie to celebrate. Consider this our pregame warm up."

Sam smiled at his brother's enthusiasm and got another piece on his fork.

"Stay on your side," Dean said, knocking his fork against Sam's.

"What are you talking about? I'm on my side."

"Are not."

"I am, look." Sam leaned forward and drew a line in the air above the pie. "Half and half."

"That's not half." Dean took his fork and did a truly terrible job of cutting the pie in half.

Sam spun the plate around.

"Hey! That's my side!" Dean defended his claim by striking his fork like a sword against Sam's.

"Seriously?" Sam relented and allowed Dean to turn the plate around again. "You weren't this bad when we shared our last piece of pie."

"I was not aware you were keeping notes."

"I'm not." Sam stabbed a piece of pie - from _his_ side - and said, "You're being ridiculous."

Dean mumbled something rude but his mouth was full of pie so whatever he said was unintelligible. He took another sip of coffee, then asked, "When was the last time we shared a piece of pie, oh keeper of records?"

"Toledo. 1990," Sam answered immediately, hiding his smile behind his own cup of coffee.

"What-" Dean broke off, eyes going wide, before narrowing in suspicion. "You're joking, right? There's no way you remember-"

"I have no clue when we shared a piece of pie. Probably when we were kids."

Dean glared at him, but there was a hint of amusement in his gaze. He shook his head and said, "That was a long time ago. Us being kids."

Sam nodded. A _long_ time ago. Dean had just turned forty-one and the very thought was shocking. Partially because Sam had trouble accepting how old they were really getting and partially because he was in awe of the fact they'd lived this long in the first place.

Of course, if Chuck got his way…

"You're doing that thing again," Dean interrupted.

"What thing?" Sam said it more just to say something than because he really wanted to know.

Dean waved the fork at his face. "Thinking."

"And you're not?"

"No, I'm not. I'm enjoying this piece of pie. Like you should be. I spent _literally_ our last dime to get us this snack."

"Thank you," Sam said, unable to hold back a smile.

"You're welcome." Dean positively beamed.

Sam glanced over as the waitress approached.

"More coffee?" she asked, then, when they both hesitated, added, "Refills are on the house."

"In that case, yes, we'll have more." Dean nudged his mug toward her.

She topped their mugs off, glancing between them with a curious expression. After a moment, she asked, "You two been together a long time?"

Sam choked on his coffee.

"All our lives." Dean smirked, patting Sam on the back.

"Oh." She sounded disappointed.

"He's my _brother,_ " Sam managed to say in between coughs.

" _Oh._ " There was a renewed flare of interest in her gaze now as she looked at Dean.

"We're on a road trip," Dean said before she could say anything else.

Sam started to tune out the conversation and then realized there was no more conversation. Looking up from the slice of pie, he found the waitress had walked away.

"Struck out?" Sam asked, defending his half of the pie from Dean's threatening fork.

"Wasn't trying." He shrugged, motioning at their little snack. "I can't exactly even buy her a cup of coffee right now, can I?"

"Good point."

Dean nodded and said, "It's just a good thing you're a cheap date."

Rolling his eyes, Sam asked, "You do know that most of that change was mine, right?"

"How do you figure?"

" _I_ found most of that change."

"And where did you find it?" Dean asked, then took a sip of his coffee, looking smug.

"Under the seats."

"Under what seats?"

"Under the seats in the Impala," Sam said; just like that, he'd lost the argument.

"Ah!" Dean held up a finger. "Under the seats in _my_ car. Which thereby makes it _my_ money."

"I found it." He tried one last time. " _I'm_ the one who dug under the seats so you could have a cup of coffee and a slice of pie-"

"Which I then shared with you-"

"Which I am absolutely certain you are never going to let me forget."

"This could be our very last piece of pie ever, Sammy," Dean said dramatically, scraping the rest of the pie off his side of the plate.

"I thought you said we were picking one up on the way home."

"You're right." Dean's expression changed and he nodded. "I did say that."

Sam finished his coffee and asked "So, you ready to go win big so we can buy ourselves a whole pie?"

"We just got a slice of pie and two cups of coffee _with_ free refills," Dean said, grinning. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "I'm feeling pretty damn lucky right now. Let's get goin'."

Pushing himself to his feet, Sam said, "You better hope to win really big because we are flat broke."

"Speaking of _flat."_ Dean groaned. "The tire. Crap."

"Crap. The tire." Sam rubbed his forehead. "You think you'll be able to -"

"I can change a tire, Sam!"

"Alright, alright" Sam held up his hands, following his brother outside.

So much for the pie having brightened Dean's mood.

"I hate being normal," Dean grumped as he started digging through the trunk.

"This _isn't_ normal. None of this is. This is Chuck messing with us."

"So what's normal?" Straightening up, Dean met his gaze. There was very real confusion in his eyes as he asked, "If this isn't normal, what is?"

Sam pondered the question for a long moment, knowing it was important he get the answer right.

What _was_ normal? It was a really good question. He thought about their life. Living in a secret bunker. Family members and friends dying horribly and then coming back from the dead. _They'd_ come back from the dead. More than once.

They'd spent their entire childhood training to fight monsters. Struggling to survive on next to nothing. Protecting each other, saving each other. The good times, the bad. The times when everything had been so perfect between them that he couldn't have ever hoped for anything better.

Saving people, hunting things. The family business. Had that all just been Chuck? All along?

Shaking his head, he motioned between them and said, "This is normal. You and me."

Dean lifted a doubtful eyebrow.

"Chuck didn't control all of our choices. He _doesn't_ control everything," Sam said, gaining confidence as he thought it through. "Hell, we've screwed up his plans our entire lives. _He_ didn't do that. We did."

"You really believe that?" Dean asked softly, looking down at the flat tire.

"I'm trying to," Sam answered honestly.

"I'm trying to believe it, too."

"That's all we need. That's all we've _ever_ needed."

Dean nodded, a small smile touched his lips. He pulled the jack out of the trunk and asked, "So, you think us hunting things that go bump in the night is normal, huh?"

"For us, yeah."

"That's pretty weird."

"Well, yeah, but it's normal. These things that have been happening to us lately are weird."

Kneeling down next to the tire, Dean laughed. "This _conversation_ is weird."

"You're weird."

"You really think that if he'd been controlling everything, we wouldn't be who we are right now?"

"He wants us to kill each other, Dean, he doesn't want us to be friends."

"You're not my friend," Dean said, starting to work on the tire. "I don't even like you that much."

Two forks, a shared slice of pie, and an entire lifetime of examples told Sam otherwise.

He smiled as he got down on his knees to help his brother change the tire.

_ The End _

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed!
> 
> I'm not sure I've ever managed a direct episode tag so quickly after an episode. I loved the episode and I loved the scene in the diner so much. It was both hilarious and endearing when Dean asked for two forks.
> 
> Have a great week! I'll be back next Friday with a little Valentine's Day treat. ;)


End file.
